


Stray

by the_inked_quill



Series: Twin Stars [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, Nan Elmoth, Sad friendship feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_inked_quill/pseuds/the_inked_quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elwë Sindicollo wanders into Nan Elmoth seeking his friend Finwë - and strays from the path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stray

Dense, verdant growth fringed the trail as Elwë strode through the forest of Nan Elmoth, silver hair streaming over his grey-mantled shoulders. Fern fronds swayed above the leaf-carpeted ground, blown by a gentle breeze from the mountains to the north. Here and there, the warbling of a linnet or a thrush pierced the silver-dappled stillness beneath the ancient trees. Mystery and ancient power wove itself through the forest like an enchantment fair and yet fey. He could hear it in the rustle of the leaves, the song of the forest-birds, and the rushing of the clear stream beside the dusky path. Starlight slanted down from the heavens onto the lush forest cloaking the still-young land. It danced across the whispering leaves, leaving intricate patterns on his worn tunic, reflecting like twin points in his bright grey eyes.

Yet Elwë paid little heed to his surroundings, having thought only for the memory of deep-grey eyes set in a commanding visage and framed with raven hair.

_Finwë, Finwë, where have you gone? I would not be sundered from you and your people, by choice or by fate!_

Resolutely, he strode deeper into the wood, brushing aside overhanging branches hanging ever closer to the narrow path. The forest felt _alive_ , quivering with some unnamed power older than Arda itself. He could have sworn he heard whispering voices twining about the song of the _lómelindi_ and the rustling of the leaves. Squaring his shoulders, he forced his mind to stop wandering and set off towards the west, in the direction where Finwë and his host had last been seen.

It was then that he heard the song - drifting softly on the wind at first, then swirling around him in an ever-increasing swell. Flutters of colour danced between the trees, and as he peered into the dusky forest, he began to discern a _shape_ \- no, a _body_ like one of the maids of the Quendi, swaying in time to the song in a nearby glade. Raven hair streamed over her robe of midnight blue, brighter than the shadows of the forest, set with silver gems like stars. And the music! He saw not if she opened her mouth, but the song seemed to flow from within her very being, ensnaring him in tendrils of silver light. It was then that he stepped forward, and with one glance of her steely eyes - so different and yet so alike to Finwë’s commanding visage - he was lost.


End file.
